


Sleep (I've got you)

by artimess_chimes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Sleepy Kisses, Sweet, smol, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 10:44:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7614937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artimess_chimes/pseuds/artimess_chimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are days when John is the one who can't face the world. Luckily, Sherlock knows what that's like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep (I've got you)

**Author's Note:**

> So, I know I should be working on Parabatai but I'm feeling a little down and just needed a little sweet goodness.

There are days when John doesn't want to leave the comfort of his bed. Sometimes, the world beyond his own soft sheets and warm pillows seems so unbearably cold and cruel and pointless that John will just roll right back over and close his eyes and hope for the oblivion of sleep.

 After John met Sherlock, this happened less, but it still happened. It was right after a tragic case where the little girl they had been trying to save hadn't made it, even after Sherlock had been clever enough to find her. That morning, John had opened his eyes to stare at the drifting sunlight, rare in London at this time of the year, and had seen no beauty in it. Or rather, he saw the beauty and thought it horrible that something so pure and lovely dared exist in a world that constantly destroyed it. He pulled the duvet closer to him, curiously wondering at the empty sadness that seemed to fill him, how it was so passive a melancholy and yet so heavy a one.

A simple violin melody drifted up the steps, and John was reminded of his obligations, his responsibilities. He thought of how he should go downstairs and make Sherlock something to eat, make a cup of tea for himself,perhaps. Make sure nothing disgusting was growing in the fridge, read that mornings paper and write up the latest case on his blog.

Honestly, John couldn't be arsed, so he shut his eyes and waited for the day to end.

Sherlock eventually came looking for him.

John could feel his presence hovering over the bed, and his body tensed as he felt Sherlock's eyes fluttering over his still form. Then, John heard Sherlock's bare feet pattering away quietly. Surprised, John lifted his head to watch Sherlock's shadow as it disappeared down the hall. Feeling strangely more alone and bereft, John sunk into a dreamless sleep.

He was awoken again a few minutes later when something heavy thunked down next to him in bed.

It was Sherlock, wrapped in a blanket and carrying an assortment of items that he then spread over the bed. John crinkled his eyebrows in confusion.  

"Sherlock...?" 

"Here" Sherlock handed John a thermos."It's tea." 

John took the warm thermos and wrapped his hands around it, suddenly realizing how cold his hands had been. 

"Thanks."

Sherlock nodded and began sifting through the stuff he brought. John watched him at he picked up a few different novels, a notebook, the newspaper.

"Sherlock?" Sherlock made a noise in the back of his throat."What are you doing?"

"I have brought you some socks." Sherlock handed them over. "Drink some tea." 

John sat up and put on the socks, obediently sipping the tea.The tea was made exactly how John liked it, and the two of them sat in companionable silence while John drank it, staring at Sherlock while Sherlock thumbed through the books.

After a couple minutes of the quiet, Sherlock cleared his throat. "You can stay in here all day, if you'd like. I know that.....I know that sometimes the world can be too much for any one individual, and I know that I don't necessarily help when things can be overwhelming so."

Sherlock stood as if to go, and John reached out to grab his wrist.

"Please stay." Startled at the depth of desperation in his own voice, John tried to cover it by talking. "I mean, you'll probably be bored out of your mind so you don't have to, but I would really like it if you would. Stay. I'm probably just going to sleep anyway, you can leave after I nod off, if you want."

An expression of immense sadness seemed to flit across Sherlock's face before being replaced by a mask of indifference. He climbed back into the bed.

"Alright."

John sighed in relief, feeling comforted at having his friend close and curled back into the covers. If he was surprised when Sherlock's big,elegant hand descended upon his back and began rubbing soothing circles against his skin, he was already too sleep drunk to notice.

"M'hanks for this, S'erlock." John managed to say before he fell into the warm,gooey embrace of sleep.

"Sleep well, John." Sherlock said to the sweetly dozing form of his flatmate.

***

When John finally came up from his soft,wordless sleep, it was to find himself curled up comfortably next to a snoring Sherlock. Sometime during John's nap, Sherlock himself had nodded off to sleep and was now sleeping with a blanket wrapped around his head, mouth slightly open, gentle snores coming from his stub of a nose. Smiling fondly,John dreamily snuggled closer to him, arms reaching out to wrap around his waist, head burrowing beneath the blankets to tuck under Sherlock's chin. John huffed a little sigh and dropped back off to sleep. 

The fourth time John woke up that day, it was to the feel of velvety rumblings as Sherlock hummed something softly against his ear. Sherlock's arms were around him, and John felt small and safe and not as fantastically out of place as he always assumed he would feel in Sherlock's embrace.

John shuffled his head until he could look up at Sherlock, who happened to be sporting a delightful set of chins as he craned his neck to look down at John. The humming ceased and the sunlight, which had taken on an afternoon bronze by now, slanted into Sherlock's face making his irises light up with the sun's brilliance.

"Hello" John said, feeling ridiculously warm and fuzzy.

"John." Sherlock said, feeling ridiculous.

Without thinking, John reached up and placed a soft kiss on Sherlock's chin. There was a moment where they both paused as they felt a certain future, rife with tension and unspoken words fall away from them. And then they where both smiling at each other, soft sleepy smiles that spoke of contentedness and a mutual desire to be no where else in the world.

"Well then" Sherlock said."Alright."

And John reached up  and brought his perfect plush lips against his own, and they kissed with leisure and lushness and love all wrapped up into one, and John didn't want to leave his bed for an entirely different reason.            

 

  


End file.
